The Best Form of Flattery
by inukagome15
Summary: They say imitation's the best form of flattery. Steve would disagree, but then it's his fault for trying out Tony Stark's signature goatee style in the first place.


**This was a tumblr prompt by _bootycap _that caught my fancy. Because I could so see it happening. And just for kicks, set in the same universe as The Silent War, so that microwave is actually Pitch, and Bruce really doesn't want Tony giving them all a talk as to how to get along with AIs.**

**The Best Form of Flattery: **They say imitation's the best form of flattery. Steve would disagree, but then it's his fault for trying out Tony Stark's signature goatee style in the first place.

* * *

**The Best Form of Flattery**

* * *

The mission had been a long one. Steve hadn't had access to anything resembling a razor in weeks, and he hadn't tried shaving with a knife after he almost stabbed himself in the throat when Natasha startled him. She'd given him a look and informed him in a very bland voice that it would do him good to grow some hair.

Steve hadn't been sure whether to be insulted or flattered, so had just let the topic drop and abandoned his shaving routine for the next several weeks.

By the time he was back home – home being Stark Tower – he had a lovely beard going on. Natasha had been rather fascinated by the fact that his facial hair was darker than the hair on top of his head, and Steve was rather eager to get rid of it and take a hot shower. He didn't like reaching up to touch his face and encountering what felt like a hedge; he was also tired of smelling like he'd taken a bath in mud.

So the first thing he did was head straight to his bathroom. Thankfully it was early morning and there was no one around to see the state of his facial hair. He could hear voices from the kitchen, but no one seemed to be up to anything worrisome. He did hear Clint threatening the microwave with a fork if she didn't stop clanking threateningly, but it seemed that Bruce had the problem handled.

Once inside the bathroom, he set his shield down by the door with a relieved sigh, slowly beginning the process of unpeeling his skin-tight uniform. It was different from the one that Coulson had a hand in designing, but Tony hadn't done much beyond make it out of some kind of miraculous material that was simultaneously bulletproof, fireproof, impervious to cold and heat, and stretched. He'd seemed insulted at Steve's request that he make the uniform a little less form-fitting, and Steve knew he hadn't imagined the way his eyes lingered on Steve's behind.

Shaking the thought off, Steve pulled the uniform down to his waist and stepped up to the basin, gathering his shaving supplies.

It wasn't until he'd slathered his face with shaving cream and was about to start shaving it off that an odd thought struck him. Tony had always gone on about how much work keeping up his goatee was and that no one ever seemed to appreciate the art behind it. Steve had never bothered to pay any attention to the rants beyond a mild wish to feel whether the hair was really as soft as it looked, but now that he actually had the facial hair to spare…

Brow furrowed in concentration, Steve carefully began to shave. It couldn't be as difficult as Tony insisted it was, could it?

Twenty minutes later, Steve ruefully admitted that there was indeed a certain flair to shaping facial hair so meticulously. He'd managed to shave off his hair to a rough approximation of what Tony's goatee looked like, and now he was considering trimming the rest just to go all out before he shaved everything off.

After a few more seconds of thought, Steve decided to just go for it and grabbed the scissors.

Trimming didn't take nearly as long as the actual shaping did, so Steve found himself staring at a very good imitation of Tony Stark's signature goatee on his own face. It looked strange.

Steve wondered if he should take a picture for posterity's sake, even going so far as to ask JARVIS his opinion.

"Already done, Captain," JARVIS responded.

That left Steve wondering if JARVIS – and by extension Tony – had ever done anything else like this before if they had cameras _in the bathrooms_.

Filing that thought away to bring up at a later point – or never, really, because Steve _really_ didn't want to know – Steve reached for the shaving gel to shave the rest of the hair off.

That was, of course, when the alarm to assemble blared.

Steve froze for all of a second before whirling into motion, pulling his uniform back on and grabbing his shield. He pulled his cowl down, turning the mike on to hear the chatter of the rest of the team as they headed out.

Natasha said something in Russian that sounded like it might've been a curse. Then: "_I was looking forward to a bed._"

"You and me both," Steve said.

Tony's voice sounded surprised. "_Back already?_"

"Came in this morning," Steve responded. "What's the situation?"

"_Vampire ponies!_" Clint shouted gleefully.

"_Please tell me you're pulling my leg,_" Natasha groaned.

"_These equines do not sparkle, but they bear sharp teeth,_" Thor said.

"_And breathe fire,_" Tony noted, the familiar whine of a repulsor blast accompanying his words.

"Christ, okay." Steve ran through several possible battle plans and then scrapped them all when a purple unicorn with extra sharp teeth went right for him.

The vampire ponies-slash-unicorns actually weren't all that difficult to take care of once one got the hang of staying clear of their fangs and the range of their fire attacks. But it wasn't until Thor got hold of the machine responsible for ripping a hole in time and space and smashed it that they stopped attacking the city.

Then, tired and desperately wanting that shower he had never gotten round to taking, Steve convened with the rest of the team in the middle of Times Square, which had been hastily cleared out due to the attacking vampire ponies/unicorns.

He didn't notice anything wrong until realizing that the entire team had fallen silent, staring at him.

Tony lifted his faceplate, lips twitching. "_Please_ tell me it's my birthday." He sounded absolutely delighted.

"Because your idea of a present involves vampire ponies?" Steve asked.

"Screw the ponies. I'm really digging the new look you've got going there." Tony's lips spread into a grin.

"I didn't know _you_ could grow hair there," Clint said, sounding desperately like he was trying not to laugh.

"He's a red-blooded human male," Bruce pointed out, pulling close the robe Thor had thoughtfully given him. "Of course he grows hair there."

It took Steve a slow and horrifying second to remember that he hadn't managed to shave off the rest of his beard. Which was now a goatee. Shaped exactly like Tony's.

Oh _crap_.

Slowly lifting a hand to double check that yes, he _hadn't_ shaved it off, Steve narrowed in on Tony and gave him a warning look, daring him to say anything about it.

"Well," Clint said slowly, shooting Tony a sidelong look, "they_ do_ say imitation's the best form of flattery."

Tony's grin was threatening to break his face. "I want pictures."

"No," Steve blurted, remembering with a vague sense of horror that JARVIS already had some and all Tony would need to do was _ask_ and then Steve would be thoroughly screwed.

"Goatees don't suit you," Natasha informed Steve.

That was when Tony lost it, breaking down into howling laughter.

Burning with embarrassment, Steve shifted uncomfortably.

This was the last time he would ever grow facial hair. Next time he went on a mission, he was bringing shaving supplies.

* * *

**Thoughts? The prompt (or post, really) was**: steve going on a long term mission without access to a razor but when he gets back he finally shaves but as he's doing it, he shapes his beard like tony's just to see what it looks like but then the alarm goes off and he has to suit up before he can shave it all off and when tony see hims he laughs his ass off


End file.
